


A Gray Wasteland

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Series: Weirdo's Transformers Stories [12]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Apathy, Bonding, Dubious Consent, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Slash, Mind Manipulation, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome - M/M/M, Transformers Spark Bonds, Trust Issues, You thought there wouldn't be any angst?, rare pair hell, what?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-09 23:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20125594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: Smokescreen had been captured by Megatron and has suffered in his presence for months now without any help from the autobots. Being with the Warlord and surrendering to his torment for so long has turned Smokescreen cold, gray and fear ridden. But what happens when he's put in Dreadwing and Shockwave's care? Will the two decepticons care for him, or will they only serve to torment him like Megatron had?





	A Gray Wasteland

**Author's Note:**

> So I was thinking about future chapters to some of my stories and out of the ordinary came this one. I have no clue why I wrote it. I guess I was just in the mood for angst :D and we all know I'm a flying fan for rare pairs. 
> 
> So without further ado... I give you this story.

When Bumblebee saw him, it was in complete horror and relief. He hadn't seen him in many, many months, a year almost. The last time any of the team had gotten to see him, it was during a great catastrophe and difficult times. They wanted to help him, they really, really did, but helping during a time of needing help themselves was impossible. Optimus tried to negotiate, tried to reason and nearly almost threatened the Warlord Megatron to give him back, but the decepticons never yielded. Instead of ever giving him back, Megatron continued to scandalize the team by confirming messages telling them about all the things their missing team member was going through. And they couldn't do anything to save him.

That's why Bumblebee was so relieved now as he stood in the middle of the naked, winter trees, standing before the very team member that they had lost to the decepticons wrath so many months earlier. But no matter how relieved he may be, Bumblebee was more than horrified by just how horrible said team member looked as he stood mere yards away from him.

Smokescreen stood in the cold snow, his arms hanging limp at his sides and his body nearly as still as the thickest standing tree. He was leaning to one side, keeping his right leg bent as if to relieve it of any pressure. The paint on his body was worn out, scraped and scratched away. He was nearly completely gray. On his face there lay the ugliest death glare, his optics squinted and his lips parted in a dirty, angry snarl. Across the right side of his face there were three scratch marks, one of which even splitting across his optic.

The whole visual made Bumblebee fumble over his options. He wanted to call Optimus, but Smokescreen appeared to be in a unhealthy position. He thought maybe contacting the team wasn't the best idea right now. However, that didn't stop the scout from being extremely nervous as he took a step forward and beeped a question asking if Smokescreen was okay.

In the short distance, Bumblebee saw Smokescreen's expression change, seeming to go to sorrow first for a split second before turning into a bitter stare. Bee then took a step forward and lifted his servo out, asking how he was out here and if he was okay again.

_"Remember, Smokescreen,"_ Smokescreen's optics squinted in repulsion at the autobot across from him. The dark, haunting voice growling in through his commlink staying with him at all times, reminding him, _"They betrayed you."_

"You betrayed me," Smokescreen said, his optics slanting.

Bumblebee had barely heard him, taking a few steps closer until there was only about ten feet between them. He stopped, looking Smokescreen in the optics and telling him that he was there for him now, no one betrayed him, he was safe. He didn't have to suffer.

If he hadn't forcefully learned to control himself, Smokescreen would have found himself tearing up at his former friend's words, but now that it no longer mattered he simply brushed it off. "You think that I'm safe? Safe?!" He yelled furiously, balling his fist and taking a step forward, "I trusted you!"

Bumblebee let out a startled beep, jumping to the side right before the shot aimed at his spark could hit him. "I believed in you!" he turned around, only just able to dodge another shot before Smokescreen was standing right before him, punching him hard across the face.

"I gave you everything I had!" Smokescreen screamed and hit Bumblebee again, sending him flying back against a tree.

_"Yes,"_ the voice in his commlink drew out, _"Exploit yourself. Let him know that you've suffered, make him feel your pain. They betrayed you."_

Bumblebee let out a groaning beep, holding his dizzy helm as he slowly stood up. "You took everything from me and gave it all to them! You betrayed me!" Bee shot up, quickly jumping to the side before another mean punch could be delivered to his dented face again.

Landing on his front, Bumblebee swiftly turned over and charged his gun, aiming it at the other bot and shooting. He tried beeping loudly, saying that they didn't betray them, that they wanted to help him, that they couldn't do it before but they could do it now.

However, Smokescreen seemed particularly disinclined to listen as he stomped forward, transformed his arm into his gun and shot Bumblebee in the chest a few times.

"_He lies. They knew the risks of losing you and yet they did not care. They never cared. They allowed you to waste away even while withholding a valuable artifact. You were nothing to them."_

"From the moment I showed up, you all treated me like scrap!" Smokescreen shouted angrily, accepting the shots like they were the constant beatings he used to get.

Bumblebee was starting to freak out. Something was wrong with Smokescreen, mentally and physically. He was too strong, too apathetic to his own physical pain, and reacting point aggressively with his thoughts. He looked and sounded furious, grounding his denta and yelling out repeatedly, sometimes even just blindly swinging at the air.

Bumblebee quickly opened his commlink channel and called for immediate backup, not taking time to explain as he tried talking to his team member. "All I ever wanted was to make Optimus Prime proud and he sent me away!"

Bumblebee finally got a grasp on what Smokescreen was getting at and what he must have gone through. Once he was able to jump a good distance away, he transformed his weapons and lifted his servos up in surrender, giving up. To his luck, Smokescreen had paused, still holding his gun at his face but at least not shooting.

Venting calmly, Bumblebee explained to him very carefully about how he understood what he was going through. He knew what pain he was in. He thinks that they betrayed him when it was really just the decepticons not giving them a choice. Megatron was manipulating him. And most importantly, this could stop, this could stop right now. He could help him, he could get him to safety, and Smokescreen would never have to be in pain again. All he had to do was put his guns away.

Smokescreen still had that cold, calculating look on his face as he glared at the yellow autobot, still holding his gun out. His words replayed inside his head and so did the words of the other voice through his commlink. It was terrible, but he had already taught himself not to think in that way, because they betrayed him.

"Ten months," Smokescreen said coldly, keeping his stance completely still as he rose his voice, "I've been there for ten months. You have no idea what I've been through. You just want another bargaining toy in return for the ones you've already lost. Well I have one thing to say to that...."

Bumblebee was about to protest and correct Smokescreen, but an unexpected punch across the face sent him crashing into the ground. He beeped in pain as something shattered near his audio and the ground rattled. A rough servo grabbed him by the shoulder and another heavy, unforgiving punch was splitting across his face, and then another and another and another. Until it was happening all over his body.

Bumblebee couldn't move anymore. Smokescreen stood up and aimed his gun down at him, about ready to shoot his crumbled spark chamber, ignoring the screaming in the back of his mind until the sound of a ground bridge opening tore his attention away from his victim. Pointing his gun in the direction of the ground bridge, Smokescreen only glared further upon seeing that it was more autobots.

Bumblebee shakily tried sitting up. Smokescreen growled, looking down at him and mumbling a cold, hateful "scrap you" before transforming and driving off as quickly as possible.

"Bumblebee!" Optimus Prime's voice sounded out in concern, and Bumblebee slumped against the ground in pain as he let true relief settle over his spark. At least he was safe now.

"What happened?" Optimus asked, quickly kneeling down before his injured teammate and reaching a servo out to activate his commlink, "Optimus to Ratchet, I need medical assistance immediately."

"Whoa, what happened, buddy? Are you alright?" Bulkhead asked worriedly after coming to a skidding halt.

Bumblebee looked up at them and weakly nodded before beeping a soft, hesitant name. A name in which belonged to a former friend and new enemy.

* * *

When Smokescreen was brought back aboard the nemesis by a ground bridge from Soundwave, his presence was immediately requested by Megatron who never allowed him enough time for repairs. He transformed, walking down the halls in which he familiarized with time and forced accuracy. His chest was a little sore and so was his leg from this mornings hard frag, but he learned to get over it. Pain was good. Pain allowed him to process, allowed him to understand that weakness wasn't accepted.

He walked with his helm down, optics hollow and cold. He never smiled anymore. He never had anything or anyone to smile for. His energetic and ecstatic ego had been crushed, demolished and turned gray, just like his feelings and beliefs. He never knew why he had them to begin with. There obviously wasn't anyone out there who gave a scrap about him. Why did he ever have to disappoint himself?

When he arrived at the same room where he had spent the last ten months being torn apart, tortured and violated, Smokescreen opened the door without hesitancy and walked inside. He felt Megatron’s presence before he even saw him. His EM field was a powerful, wild thing; something that was never easy to ignore. But in time, Smokescreen had gotten used to it.

"Welcome back, Smokescreen," Megatron's dark voice spoke from where he stood in front of his massive berth in which was littered with scratches and energon stains. He looked down at the autobot, tilting his helm while his servos stayed clasped behind his back, "I see that you were successfully able to wound Optimus Prime's scout."

Smokescreen looked up at him and admitted in slight monotone, "I almost killed him."

"A minor insignificance that you didn't," Megatron said as if it were okay, taking a step forward and announcing, "Though the victory you have achieved could use a proper reward..."

Smokescreen bowed his head slightly, expecting Megatron to grab him, throw him on the berth and pounce on top of him like he always did. He had gotten used to the feel of his claws always tearing into him like his fangs in which let their predatory marks be proudly known on his neck and shoulders. Any overloads he experienced, if any at all, were usually fast, cold and empty, just a cruel rush of painfully raw electricity pounding through him like Megatron always did.

"For the both of you," Megatron suddenly said causing Smokescreen to squint his optics in confusion before he heard the door open behind him.

Turning around at the sound of heavy, approaching ped falls, Smokescreen saw none other than Shockwave standing before them. It wasn't necessarily a complete surprise; he had seen Shockwave several times. But, he just didn't quite understand what he had to do with right now.

"Because we are so close to achieving our victory over the autobots, I find myself lacking the best of time to accompany you as of late, and I have reason to believe that Shockwave's efforts are to be more... appreciated," Megatron explained and looked at his scientist before nodding once at his autobot, "From now on you are to remain under Shockwave and Dreadwing's command at all times. As you have served me, I can expect you not to disobey?"

Smokescreen was definitely baffled by the forced recommendation at first, but he didn't question anything. "Yes, master," Smokescreen answered and looked downwards, accepting his new change of fate rather fast. Sure, he was being passed on to two killer loyal decepticons but at least they weren't Megatron himself.

"Shockwave," Megatron gestured to the autobot.

"My greatest appreciation, Lord Megatron, for allowing me the company of your former servant," Shockwave spoke loyally to his lord and gave a slight bow to exacerbate his thankfulness, "I will insure he remains in suitable condition if ever the request comes in that you require him back."

"Fare thee well, Shockwave... Smokescreen," Megatron turned around and walked the other way.

Smokescreen looked over at the purple decepticon who had been staring at him from the moment he walked into the room. He didn't say anything. He didn't know if his words would end up in punishment like they did with Megatron, so he remained silent, only giving off the smallest indication of a nod.

If Shockwave was affected by the motion, he didn't show it as he simply turned around and headed back out the doors. Smokescreen followed, unsure about what was going to happen to him now that he was being passed on as a pet to two more decepticons. He barely knew anything about Shockwave and Dreadwing, only that they were extremely loyal and made outstanding progress. Of course Megatron would have tired of him eventually, so who else better to send him to than his most loyal followers?

Smokescreen nor Shockwave made any sort of contact as they made it all the way to the scientist's personal lab. It was quiet there. The walls were an off purple with grey floors unlike the pitch black of Megatron's quarters. Tools and energon of all sorts laid sorted and scattered upon many tables. If he were able, Smokescreen would have looked around, but knew better when he saw where exactly Shockwave was leading him.

A sizable berth. Smokescreen looked down at it, noticing how smooth and clean it's surface was unlike the scratched, ragged texture of Megatrons own. It was large too, enough to hold probably three fully sized mechs or more. Smokescreen wondered if now the fate of both him and the clean berth would change as he looked over at the purple scientist and silently questioned his intentions.

"Sit down," Shockwave ordered in his strict monotone voice as he gathered equipment out of drawers and off of tables.

Smokescreen did as told and sat down on the edge of the berth, folding his servos in his lap as he stared down at the dark grey floor, imagining what was going to happen to him now. Maybe Shockwave would tie him down like Megatron sometimes did. Maybe he would use horrid scientific procedures to torture him, bring him to overload by some sick way of experimenting. They could both take him at once, he unfortunately realized, nearly wilting. Dreadwing and Shockwave were both bigger than him, and most importantly, there were two of them. Easily they could dominate and use him to their own advantages.

Smokescreen almost huffed. All those years of looking forward to being an autobot only to be destroyed by the one he looked up to most, sending him into a decepticon slavery wasteland. He was such a naive, helpless fool. He should have known better. Megatron told him all that he needed to know to realize just how big his mistakes really were.

When Shockwave came back, he stood in front of Smokescreen and merely proceeded to look down at him, examining him. Smokescreen looked up at him, waiting for his fate to begin. He saw the tools in the scientist's servos and wondered what type of pain a buffer could be used for.

"Your optical lense requires medical attention," Shockwave stated and sat his current tools down on the berth beside the autobot who watched him in lost curiosity, "I will proceed in fixing it for you."

Why? Smokescreen heavily questioned. Why would Shockwave fix his optic? Didn't he just want to... use him? Make him suffer like Megatron always did.

Even with his thoughts rattled, Smokescreen still didn't voice his thoughts as he watched Shockwave grab a medical welder and lift it toward his face. He made a frowning motion with his mouth but did not turn away, remaining completely still in the decepticon's grasp.

Shockwave was standing directly in front of the autobot, their legs brushing as he cupped his cheek and used the welder to melt together the split metal. Surprise and faint concern filled his processor at the reaction of the unmoving autobot who didn't even wince at the most certain pain coming from the soldering tool. He'd learn why in due time. Right now, his biggest priority was to fix him up and make him suitable for him and his partner.

Smokescreen remained quiet and still the whole time, unresponsive to the attentions of the decepticon as he continuously worked on his body. It didn't take long for him to weld shut the cuts across his face, buffing them clean at the end like they had never been there to begin with. Shockwave also used some type of sticky adhesive in which repaired the scratch on his right optic, making him able to properly see again.

The whole process was baffling and confusing to Smokescreen who didn't know how to take it all in. Why would Shockwave be taking any time at all to fix him like this? Usually when Megatron was finished with him, he just sent him to Knockout for clumsy repairs, never taking the time to do it himself. Shockwave, however, made sure no stone was left unturned as he worked on down his body, fixing scratches and buffing out scrapes. He even fixed the broken joint in his knee and used some type of soothing oil to repair his sore, raw wrists that had been tied up so many times before. Smokescreen sat there the whole time, his apathetic facade hiding in how flummoxed and surprised he really was.

Whenever Shockwave was done, he asked, "Are there any other obscurities in which I should be aware of?"

Smokescreen looked at him and felt his shoulders tense in the slightest way. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but the truth was that there was something bothering him. Something very personal and painful. But he shook his head instead of saying anything, secretly afraid of what Shockwave would do if he found out.

As if sensing his lie, Shockwave stepped away and grabbed what appeared to be a data pad from the back table. When he came back, he scanned the autobot and read the results on the scanner. "You have an obstruction behind your interface panel."

Smokescreen did visibly frown, looking down at the ground as he remembered what exactly that obstruction was.

"Remove your panel and allow me to remove it," Shockwave ordered and took a step forward.

Smokescreen was going to say something, but kept from it. His nerves boiled and screamed as he grabbed the edge of the berth, spread his legs and opened his interface panel. Slowly, in the most timid, sad way possible, his neglected spike came out, the obstruction along with it.

Shockwave kneeled to investigate it... An inhibitor ring. A device made specifically for preventing mechs from overloading by their spikes. And considering by the lost coloring of Smokescreen's spike and the fact that his biolights weren't working, Shockwave guessed it must have been on there for quite some time. A thought that nearly disgusted him.

Reaching forward, Shockwave stored newly learned information in his processor at every little, tiny move Smokescreen made. The biggest movement so far being the small flinch at the touch of claws on his neglected spike. Reaching for a tool on the berth, Shockwave told Smokescreen to be still as he pressed the demagnetizer to the inhibitor ring and pulled it backwards, freeing the device of the fragile metal it was buried into.

Pulling the ring off, Shockwave barely heard Smokescreen's shaky sigh of relief once the painful obstruction was finally removed. "You may close your panel," he informed, throwing the inhibitor ring away and what other spent buffering tools he had used.

Smokescreen secretly let out another sigh as he closed his panel and felt the stiffness that had always been between his legs slowly ebb away. He still couldn't understand any of this. Couldn't understand why or how Shockwave was fixing him up and repairing him like he was. He looked up, watching the scientist as he stored away his tools, wondering why he would go through all this trouble just to fix him himself instead of sending him to Knockout. Maybe he was going to experiment on him. Or maybe he just wanted to make his own territorial marks on him.

Smokescreen's guesses were somewhat correct as he saw Shockwave pull out an unfortunately familiar device that was purple and black. The cortical psychic patch. Memories that used to be his worst came back and made Smokescreen arch a brow in confusion. Megatron had already stripped clean his mind the day he was kidnapped, gathering together all the useful information he could and storing it away for his own cause. What knowledge did Shockwave think he could get when Megatron already found everything that was useful?

Shockwave plugged one end of the patch into the back of his helm before approaching the autobot who was giving off a rather intriguing stare. He looked blandly curious, maybe even a bit confused, but Shockwave planned to get to the bottom of his off behavior. If rumor had it, Smokescreen used to be a recruited autobot, and quite the vibrant one too- that was until Megatron kidnapped him one day and turned him into this silent, hollow cast of the autobot Smokescreen once was. Shockwave stopped in front of the autobot who was already bending his helm forward, oddly submitting his processor port to him.

Without word, Shockwave plugged in the other end of the patch. Smokescreen barely made more than a twitch before completely zoning out.

While they were out, Dreadwing walked into the room, instantly taking sight to his mate and their new autobot. He had remembered Megatron saying something about giving them a reward for their successful efforts lately. At first he wasn't too thrilled about the idea of being given a used autobot pet as a servant, but Shockwave had come up with an idea. A rather enthralling one.

Stopping beside his mate, Dreadwing was amused to realize that he made it just in time as he watched Shockwave pull the patch from his own helm. He paused then, looking at him with his emotionless optic, but Dreadwing could feel and hear his thoughts through their bond. And it wasn't very enlightening. Shockwave sent a few more distressed waves off to his mate before reaching out to pull the patch from Smokescreen's helm.

A few electrical charges danced over the autobot’s optics and he made a sound of irritation, grabbing the back of his helm and rubbing it. He sighed to himself. He really hated that dumb thing.

_"It is worse than I had anticipated,"_ Shockwave said to his mate.

Dreadwing gave him a concerning look as he felt Shockwave's near traumatized emotions rushing into his spark through the bond. They knew something bad happened to Smokescreen, and thought that using the cortical psychic patch would help to understand him more but...

_"We need to proceed with extreme measures of caution."_ Shockwave said privately, nodding at his mate.

When Smokescreen was finished rubbing his sore helm, he looked up and froze, just now noticing the presence of the second decepticon. He was big. Heck, they both were. Dreadwing was just about as big and as broad as Megatron with that overwhelming vibe of brutality and power. Smokescreen blinked, bowing his helm slightly as he imagined what all he was going to be put through.

"Drink this," Shockwave commanded in his monotone voice and held out a glowing blue glass of energon with secret pain killers and sedatives inside.

Smokescreen looked shocked at first, but the expression quickly melted away into unsure confusion as he timidly lifted up his servos and grabbed the cube. Megatron hardly ever gave him fuel willingly, always saying that he had to earn it in some pain illuminating way. Smokescreen was usually always running on half empty. The repeated beeps of internal warnings had become his saddest yet most self comforting song, and he clinged to it desperately in times of true horror and pain.

"All of it," Shockwave added before turning around and heading to another table, his partner following his steps.

Smokescreen was left sitting a little flabbergasted, for he didn't know how to take the suddenness of the situation. He couldn't tell if Shockwave was actively trying to provide care or was just using some cruel way of buttering him up to abuse him later. Either way, Smokescreen wasn't going to risk getting a beating by not obeying, so he drank the fuel willingly, relishing in the sweet, thirst quenching flavor.

At the other table, Shockwave spoke to Dreadwing through the bond, telling him about who Smokescreen was and what he had gone through these past ten months. And soon enough, Dreadwing became just as disgusted and traumatized as his partner. Smokescreen apparently used to be the life of the party, a very young and innocent bot, viciously loyal to Optimus Prime and the autobots, happy and carefree. He was energetic and kind, he wanted to do good and help create peace. But then that day came when Megatron kidnapped him, took him away and turned him into a brutal slave.

The memories Shockwave looked into were even enough to make himself feel sick to his tanks. Smokescreen had went through everything and more. Megatron’s servos spared him nothing of the bot he used to be. After looking into his thoughts, Shockwave learned why Smokescreen never talked or moved much anymore. He was obviously afraid that anything he did would get him punished in some way.

Dreadwing agreed that he too couldn't believe Megatron would actually do the things he did to someone like that. It was disturbing, but there was nothing they could do to change their master's motives. However, they could reshape this autobot, make him more... Well suited for their own company.

By the time they were finished discussing their private matters, Shockwave and Dreadwing returned to their new autobot who had sat the empty energon cube down beside him. "Now that you are finished refueling, I and my mate Shockwave would like to explain our intentions for your future being since Megatron gifted you to us," Dreadwing explained.

Smokescreen blinked at them and slowly nodded. He didn't know they were mates. Was that actually a thing with decepticons?

"As we are binded together by spark, we want you to be our third mate," Dreadwing spoke, gesturing to his spark and then Smokescreen's.

Smokescreen's optics noticeably widened. Clearly he was taken away by that statement. He almost spoke because it was so surprising.

"Our frames, unlike Lord Megatron’s, lack overwhelming composition and networking. We are different both in processor and spark, and seek accurate procurement in our future time together on Cybertron," Shockwave's voice lacked some of its usual monotone, and held a type of serenity inside it.

Dreadwing tilted his head, "Although we do not appreciate the circumstances from what you've been through, we are willing to sacrifice our time to give you settlement as a new member of our bond."

Smokescreen looked absolutely flummoxed. They wanted him to bond with them? "I..." Smokescreen looked down, his optics mindlessly scanning the floor as he tried to process what all was going on. He didn't know what to do or what to say.

"You may speak your mind," Shockwave said, his voice still that unusual gentleness.

Smokescreen nearly whimpered when he looked up at him, his mouth gapped. "I..." He clenched his denta. He didn't want to be hurt. He didn't want to be forced or hit or punished anymore. He just wanted it all to end. But to be bonded to two decepticons for the rest of his life, following their rule and order. Smokescreen honestly would rather just offline. "I...."

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if this thing will get any credit or not, but I just wanted to put it out there and see. I might add more... just depends on the credit.


End file.
